


Handsignals

by QianLan



Series: Same Universe, Different Day [19]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Apologies, Established Relationship, Force-Sensitive Finn, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9675824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QianLan/pseuds/QianLan
Summary: A party.  Missed signals.  Hurt feelings.  Apologies.  And a secret Dameron language.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Stormpilot week 2017](http://stormpilotweek2017.tumblr.com/), day three.
> 
> The prompt is: Finn teaching Poe something.

 

 

The kid’s name was Clovus, Poe was pretty sure.  And he was eager, so fragging eager.  And he kept calling him “Commander Dameron.”  It sounded strange.  Did the kid not notice that everyone—from the lowliest grunt to the General herself—called him Poe?

 

_I hate these damn parties._

 

Poe tried to refocus.  The kid was asking about his time with the New Republic.  Poe was giving him the standard answers and trying not to stare too pointedly at his husband, who was standing about ten feet behind Clovus.  _Maybe it’s Clevus?_  

 

Finn looked pissed.  His lips were pressed together and his eyes were a bit wider than usual.  His hands were at his sides. 

 

Poe wanted to roll his eyes.  _Just come over here and rescue me already, dammit!_   _This kid is one of yours, after all._

 

Finally, he was able to get away from Clovus... _no, definitely Clevus_ , feigning a need to visit the fresher.  He walked over to Finn, “Whew!  I don’t know how you handle it.  Does he talk non-stop during training?”

 

“No, they’re all too scared of me,” Finn said.  “But Klerrick is a bit more ambitious than the rest.”

 

“Klerrick?  Are you sure it’s Klerrick?  I’ve been calling him Clovus.”

 

“Am I sure about the name of one of the men serving under me?”  Finn closed his eyes in that way he did when he was trying very hard not to yell at his husband.

 

That’s when Poe noticed that Finn was still mad.  His hands were still at his sides, and his eyes—now open—were just boring into Poe.

 

“No,” Poe said. 

 

“No?”

 

“No, you do not get to be pissed.  I’m sorry I messed up his name, but I’m the one who was stuck there for fifteen minutes while you pouted over here.”

 

“You think I give a flying frag what you called him?”

 

“Uh, well, I just…” 

 

“And you really didn’t see me?”

 

“Of course, I saw you!  I just said I saw you.  You were standing here staring at us like I was doing something wrong.”

 

Finn rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling.  “How long have we been married, Dameron?”

 

“Two years,” Poe said, dreading what came next.  Happy conversations did not start with questions about how long they’d been married.

 

“And in all that time, you’ve never noticed…”  Finn started moving his hands.

 

“What?  Crazy jazz hands?”

 

Finn cocked his head and sighed.  “You can’t be this dense, Dameron.”  He stilled and balled one hand into a fist.  The other held two fingers down.  He looked from his hands back to Poe.  This time his gaze was expectant.

 

“What?”

 

Finn groaned.  “We’ve been together all this time, and you’ve never picked up on my Stormtrooper signals?”

 

“Your what?”

 

“How do you think we communicated when we had to be quiet, couldn’t use the comms?”

 

Poe shrugged.  “Never stopped to think about it.  I’m a pilot, remember?”

 

Finn shook his head.  “Seriously!”  He turned.  “I’m getting a drink.”

 

Poe jogged to keep up with him.  “Finn!  Hey, wait up!”  He caught his husband and leaned in.  “I’m sorry.  We both know I’m an idiot.  Look, tomorrow, you can start teaching them to me.”

 

“You don’t have to placate me.”

 

“I’m not.  If you can get me out of awkward social situations with ambitious trainees, I’m all for learning.”

 

“Fine,” Finn huffed.  He leaned against the bar and ordered a drink.  The bartender looked to Poe who ordered another of the same.

 

Poe turned to Finn.  “So what was the signal earlier?”

 

“You mean the one I was throwing you for fourteen of those fifteen minutes?”

 

“Yeah, that one.”

 

“That would’ve been _Disengage now.  Evasive measures_.”

 

“Good.”  Poe laughed.  “The next signal you’re teaching me is _help_ , okay?”

 

Finn sipped his drink.  “Okay.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Poe said.

 

“You’ve already said that.”

 

“It bears repeating,” Poe said, leaning into Finn.  He whispered into Finn’s ear, “What’s the signal for _I love you_.”

 

Finn fought hard against his smile.  “There isn’t one.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Finn looked at his husband.  “How many times in combat do you tell your troops you love them…”—and before Poe could answer Finn remembered that this was Poe he was talking to—“Okay, let me rephrase that: how many times in combat do you think Stormtroopers say that?”

 

“Good point,” Poe said.  “But maybe after you teach me the Stormtrooper signals, we make up a few of our own?”

 

“A secret Dameron language?”

 

“A secret Dameron language.  I like it,” Poe said, taking a sip of his drink.  “Think how useful it will be the next time we get captured.”

 

Finn downed his entire drink.  “Maybe we plan on not getting captured again and just focus on using it at boring parties or when we want to bug Jess and Iolo.”

 

Poe nodded.  “I don’t want us to get captured, sweetie.”

 

“I know,” Finn said.  “Just the cavalier attitude is sometimes a bit—”

 

“Of the way I try to pretend that we’re not both soldiers who might get hurt tomorrow,” Poe said, finishing his drink.  _Or worse._

 

“We suck at this party thing,” Finn said, motioning to the bartender for another drink.  Poe did the same.

 

“Yes, we do,” Poe said.  He drummed his fingers on the bar.  “And it doesn’t help that you’re leaving tomorrow.”

 

“It’s just for a week.”

 

“A lot can happen in a week.”

 

Finn bit his cheek. 

 

“So,” Poe said, “what’s the _help_ signal?”

 

“First, show me _Disengage now.  Evasive measures.”_

Poe mimicked Finn’s earlier signal perfectly.

 

“Good,” Finn said, taking a sip of his new drink.

 

“I’m a quick learner,” Poe said.

 

“We’ll see,” Finn said.

 

“Is that a challenge?”

 

Finn laughed.  “You do realize that you’re still technically trying to apologize to me, right?”

 

Poe nodded.  “I’m trying to make up for two-plus years of being an idiot and not realizing that…hey, wait a minute!  Are you saying that you’ve been throwing hand signals at me for two years?”

 

“I’ve been using them with you since we first met.”

 

“And I’ve been…”

 

“Somehow figuring out what I was trying to tell you some other way.”

 

Poe snorted and took a long drink.  “The Force,” he said finally.

 

“The Force?”

 

“You’ve been using the Force on me,” Poe said, matter-of-factly.

 

“Poe, you know that I would never—”

 

“No, no, no!  I don’t mean you’ve been doing the Jedi mind trick stuff on me, but somehow you’ve been sending just enough…what do you call it?  Force vibes?  Well, you’ve been sending Force vibes my way and I’ve been picking up on them.”

 

Finn pondered Poe’s suggestion with a sip.  “That would actually make a lot of sense.”  Finn took a bigger sip.  “Didn’t work tonight, though.”

 

“True,” Poe said.  “Maybe you didn’t want it to?”

 

“Maybe.”  Finn finished his drink.

 

“Maybe you’re tight before a mission?”

 

“Maybe,” Finn said.  “Still doesn’t mean I’m not pissed that you missed two years’ worth of hand signals.”

 

Poe stared at the new drink in front of him.  He swirled it around for a few moments.  Then, he stopped and put it down.  He turned to Finn.  “Does this mean anything in Stormtrooper?”  He put his right hand over his heart, three fingers spread out.

 

“Nope,” Finn said, taking a drink.

 

“Now it does,” Poe said.  “That’s _I love you_.” 

 

“I love you,” Finn repeated.

 

“Show me.”

 

Finn pushed back from the bar and turned to face Poe.  He put his hand over his heart, three fingers spread out.  “I love you,” he said.

 

“What about this one,” Poe asked, lowering both hands to his sides and turning both palms towards Finn.

 

“Nope.  That’s not one of them.”

 

“That’s _I’m sorry_.”

 

Finn repeated the gesture, saying, “I’m sorry.”

 

Poe nodded.  “I really am.”

 

“Poe, I underst—”

 

Poe shook his head and moved his right hand back over his heart, this time with all five fingers spread out.  “Come back to me,” he whispered.

 

Finn mimicked the gesture.  “Come back to me,” he whispered back.

 

Poe nodded.  “Sound good?”

 

Finn nodded, turning back to the bar and wiping his eyes.  He took a long gulp of his drink.  “Wanna get out of here?”

 

“Yeah,” Poe said, finishing off his drink.  “But first, show me _help_.”

 

Finn’s right hand grasped his left bicep.  “Help.”

 

“Help,” Poe said, doing the gesture.  “Help,” he repeated.

 

Finn nodded and took his arm, leading Poe back towards the barracks.

 

**# # # #**

 

It was still dark outside as the Pathfinders began filing onto the transport.  Finn jogged over to Poe who stood off to the side of the hangar.  “One week,” he said.

 

“One week,” Poe said back.

 

Finn pressed his lips into Poe’s.  “Love you.”

 

“Love you,” Poe said.

 

Finn jogged back to the transport.  As he got to the top of the ramp, he turned. 

 

Poe stood under one of the lights on the edge of the tarmac, holding his right hand to his heart, five fingers outstretched.

 

Finn swallowed hard and put his right hand to his heart, three fingers outstretched. 

 

A voice from behind him said, “Sir?  Sir, we’re ready as soon as you give the word.”

 

Finn nodded and lifted his hand in a wave before turning and going into the transport.

 

Poe stood on the tarmac, his right hand over his heart, until the ship left his sight.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always make my day!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr. I'm [@cha-llamala](https://cha-llamala.tumblr.com/).


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